Post by alyadmirer on May 15, 2018 2:14:30 GMT
As frenetic as things had been to this point in the evening, the crowd could use a small breather. Though as the announcer steps toward the middle of the recently cleared ring, it seems a respite is not on the cards. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he says, “please welcome…”
Those two words tell the savvy folks in the stands that the pause button is indeed about to be pressed, at least for the moment.
“… Juliet and Nyssa, THE BLLLOOOOOODDDWWWIIINNNDDD SIIISSSTTTEEERRRSSS!!!!!”
JULIET BLOODWIND:
NYSSA BLOODWIND:
”TESTIFY”:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q3dvbM6Pias
The burst of cheers is electric as the PA system blasts Rage Against the Machine's ‘Testify‘. Within moments, the Tempe Temptress and the Nubile Navajo emerge atop the ramp, to a thunderous ovation for the sisters Bloodwind. Their emergence also gives the fans in the stands another clue that things might be momentarily slowing down, as both brunettes wear identical black t-shirts that sport a pair of bronzed, curvy silhouettes bookending a pair of words, “NAVAJO NATION”, in matching print, one on top of the other, by leaning back against them, each woman’s shadow with a raised boot resting against an ‘N’ in the bottom word. But below the hem of those tees, the faux deerskin bikini bottoms and Nyssa’s trademark “half loin cloth” that both sisters wear tonight, suggests that they are still prepared for a fight.
Juliet and Nyssa make their way down the aisle, slapping hands with those along the railing. At ringside, the pair complete their circuit around the ring, continuing to press the flesh with the assembled fans. Their lap concluded, Juliet and Nyssa move quickly toward the ring, gracefully hopping onto the apron. With her back to the ropes, arms draped over the top rope, the elder Bloodwind gives a suggestive wiggle of her hips before leaning backward, flipping herself over the top rope and landing on her feet inside the ring. While the crowd reacted appreciatively to Juliet's exhibition, their volume only increases as Nyssa follow her partner's lead, the Nubile Navajo grinning as she sticks the landing flawlessly, both beauties now in the ring.
Elder and younger Bloodwind march to opposing corners, Juliet and Nyssa each hopping onto the middle buckle, pumping a fist and egging the crowd on. Jumping down, the sisters turn back and saunter toward mid-ring, the Tempe Temptress accepting the offered microphone from the ring announcer with a smile. “HOW ARE WE ALL DOING TONIGHT, ORLANDO?” Juliet asked, lobbing a softball that the FAWNatics pounced on, erupting into a deafening roar.
“I’m feeling good,” the elder Bloodwind responds with a nod. “I’ll be feeling better after I hang three straight ‘L’s on a certain smug, self-absorbed skank.”
THAT draws a few gasps from the capacity crowd.
“But tonight… tonight, Nyssa and I have been sitting backstage, enjoying the show. And we got to thinking…”
Reaching over, the Nubile Navajo took Juliet’s hand, tilting the stick toward her lips.
“Mainly, we got to thinking that it’s been TOO DAMN LONG since Jules and I shared THIS ring!”
Judging by the eruption of cheers and applause, it would seem the FAWNatics agree.
“Of course,” Juliet continues, “even before tonight, Nys and I have been doing a little thinking. We’ve been thinking about the two women who currently hold the FAWN Tag Team titles. We’ve been thinking about the ONLY time that Nyssa and I have ever been able to get those two in a FAWN ring… and we’ve been thinking about how a certain chienne who shall remain nameless kept that one match from being a fair fight.”
And again, Nyssa directs the microphone her way.
“And how one Belle Butler assured us that, whenever we could arrange to have a fair fight, those Hellions would gladly give us one.”
Juliet raises a hand.
“Now, Nyssa and I aren’t about to try to jump to the head of the line. But, IF we’re going to get us a title shot, THEN we need to start facing—and BEATING—some of those teams ahead of us.”
This time, the Nubile Navajo takes the stick from her older sister, and moves to the ropes.
“So,” Nyssa calls back down the aisle, “who wants to come down and get scalped?”
There’s a few moments of silence. Enough to make the crowd uncomfortable. Then the arena’s speakers spark to life with the pounding of “America, F*ck Yeah” from Team America World Police, the song assaulting Orlando’s great unwashed.
”AMERICA, F*CK YEAH”:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=7R5A0pg4oN8
Blue America’s least favorite, little blonde antagonist strides to the center of the stage, the FAWNatics making clear where their wrestling voting preferences lie.
POLLY LOCKWOOD:
Being in Florida, more than a few scattered ‘Polly Patriots’ shoot to their feet in delight, saluting her and her anthem crisply. The majority make themselves known in a completely different fashion, raining a cascade of boos toward the obnoxious Trumpeter.
In the ring, Nyssa shakes her head with a sly grin, knowing she has the number of the Star Spangled Bytch as much as anyone else in her career and that no one in their right mind would trust Lockwood to be her partner.
Meanwhile, the flaxen-haired hardbody, seemingly unconcerned at her handicap, brings a salute to her brow to signal her Trumptastic troops then lets the snowflakes know what she thinks of them by fashioning the knife-edge into a salute of the middle finger variety.
The Fox&Friendly grappler is in her battle fatigues, Polly proudly sporting her customary hot pants and bikini top. Lockwood alternates her country’s colors between a shiny, eye catching blue topside, white stars prominently placed in the appropriate spots; and shimmering red and white-striped spandex below, the space age polymer barely covering her biscuit butt. She finishes the ensemble with gleaming white pads and boots.
The ‘True American’ has her customary cape, Old Glory draped over her shoulders as a cloak.
Lockwood crow hops into a jog to the ring, the flag waving behind her. She snarls at the moronic hordes who infest this great land and ignores their insults and jeers, taking a swipe at one sign proclaiming
”Behold America’s native wonders!”
“I’m the native,” Lockwood shouts. “They’re…squatters!”
The spiteful patriot ascends the steel steps. She hesitates, seemingly unsure whether the Bloodwinds will pounce and claim what they threatened to take earlier. Finally, Lockwood slides through the ropes at the Juliet’s urging. Polly removes the flag from her shoulders and holds the star-spangled banner high. Moving to a corner, she exchanges her banner for a microphone and walks to the center of the ring, pulling it to her lips.
“Big talk from a pair of injuns who can’t shoot their arrows straight,” Lockwood growls, drawing a rousing round of jeers from the audience. Showing no fear, she moves to the center where she’s confronted by Nyssa, the younger Bloodwind going chest to chest with Jules behind her, whispering in her sister’s ear. The Nubile Navajo raises her own mike and gets cut off by the future jurist.
”Don’t even,” your honor interrupts. “These people don’t want to hear fake news or see fake wrestling. And they know I could beat you all by lonesome…BECAUSE I’M A GOD DAMN AMERICAN!”
Lockwood smirks, over the echoing boos.
“But the fact is I don’t have to because there’s someone in this country who is a better person, an honorable person, someone who makes you Bloodwinds look…well…SAD!”
Nyssa chuckles as she’s patted on her shoulders from behind by big sis.
“There isn’t a person in this country,” Bloodwind informs, “heck in this world, who would trust your deceitful, shrunken heart as far as they can throw you, they might as far as I can throw you.”
The crowd interrupts with a loud, goading “OOOOOOOH” as Nyssa shrugs with a shit-eating grin.
Polly holds up a palm to stop any monologue Bloodwind might have in mind and Nyssa’s had enough. She stuffs a palm of her own into Polly’s chest and shoves her would-be foe back several steps, Juliet moving alongside her sibling in battle formation.
“Hold on,” Lockwood implores, catching her balance. “Me smoke’em peace pipe.”
The True American giggles as both Bloodwinds seem ready to make the Fox&Friendly blonde’s day particularly unpleasant.
“No…wait, wait, wait. I’m sorry,” Polly pleads. “Let me introduce you to my partner. I looked far and wide to find a woman who embodies the spirit of our forefathers and thank god I found her.”
Polly turns to the upper stage, sweeping an arm in that direction. The eyes of the Native beauties and the crowd move to the entrance. As they do, a woman pops over the guardrail from the sisters’ six. Throwing off a full length grey fur coat and white wool hat, the redhead slides into the ring, leaps to her feet, and lays a wicked forearm smash between Nyssa’s shoulderblades.
The younger Bloodwind stumbles toward Polly, who doubles over Nyssa with a penetrating toe kick. Lockwood grasps the Navajo’s noggin in a front facelock and PLANTS skull to canvas with a vicious DDT, Nyssa somersaulting to a splayed spreadeagle.
A startled Juliet turns into a whiplashing European Uppercut from the interloper that puts Temptress’ ass to canvas, Bloodwind blankly staring up at Russia’s not-so-cold warrior. Arms folded across her chest, a withering glare directed toward the seated Jules, the brutal introduction continues with a stomp to the forehead that flattens Juliet to horizontal.
“Let me acquaint you,” Polly shouts excitedly, the sight of the decked Bloodwinds making her adrenaline flow. “This is the beautiful and talented Kira Koslova. She hails from the St. Petersburg that matters.”
KIRA KOSLOVA:
The Russian beauty stands resolutely nearby in a simple red one piece, one unusual aspect of the suit— a pattern displaying a portion of Kira’s bronzed, toned abdomen, the cutout in the form of a hammer and sickle.
“As the President drains the swamp in DC so Kira and I will do it down here in FLA. And since it is arguably a bigger job and FAWN is a bigger shithole, the only way to clean out the tag ranks is with some well-oiled COLLUSION!”
Her piece said, Polly tosses the stick downward, the microphone striking the faux deerskin exposed by Nyssa’s somewhat raised t-shirt, the sound of both its impact and the groan expelled from the Nubile Navajo’s tummy played out over the PA system. Considering the bell had yet to ring, there’s not much the official can do against such a blatant transgression. Lockwood then demands the ref start the match, and together she and Koslova start putting the boots to the Bloodwinds before their foes can fully rise.
The bell clangs, bringing the match to order mid-free-for-all. If you could call this order, the TRUE American and her Ruthless Russian Assassin unrelenting in their barrage of kicks and stomps. The referee TRIES to insist that Polly and Kira allow one Bloodwind the opportunity to leave the ring and for one of them to depart herself, but though both blonde and redhead start to drag their respective Navajo warrior toward opposing corners, neither seems intent on departing anytime soon.
Lockwood hairhauls up her longtime nemesis, while Koslova pulls the Tempe Temptress back to her feet as well. And, as it turns out, the official’s suspicions are quickly born out when, instead of leaving the ring, Polly and Kira begin SLAMMING Nyssa’s and Juliet’s faces into the thin leather padding of the top turnbuckle.
“DAMMIT, GIRLS!!!” an exasperated zebra wails, raising his hand to begin a count on the quartet as the Nubile Navajo eats turnbuckle for a fifth time and her sister for a sixth. But, at almost the exact same moment, Polly and Kira each glance over a shoulder, making momentary eye contact and exchanging a nod. Each co-conspirator spins Nyssa and Polly so that their backs are to the buckles, then lean in, taking a wrist and whipping Jules and Nyssa toward a mid-ring collision…
… only instead of a head-on impact, the Tempe Temptress and Nubile Navajo link arms, their doe-si-doe drawing a cautious cheer from the capacity crowd inside the FAWN Arena, Navajo Nation eager to see their champions right the ship after Polly and Kira’s duplicitous strike…
… but while this might be the FAWNatics first exposure to the alliance between the Fox & Friendly blonde and the Russian redhead, it remains readily apparent that the duo has put in PLENTY of time in the shadows, honing their craft and their timing. Neither woman seems caught off guard by the Bloodwinds’ audible. Indeed, it almost appears that both women had EXPECTED this turn of events—and Lockwood and Koslova respond with identical dropkicks, Polly’s catching the charging Nyssa at chest level, while Kira’s soles slam into the chin of the Tempe Temptress, both Bloodwind sent sprawling to the deck.
And still, neither vixen is ready to leave the ring.
Desperate to impose his authority on the proceedings, the ref marches over to Nyssa and Polly, making the calculated decision that trying to defuse things between the two women with the greatest history of animosity between them would be the best path to getting this match properly on track. But as the Alt-Right’s favorite blonde climbs into a straddle of the Nubile Navajo’s chest, Kira Koslova drags a dazed Tempe Temptress into the near corner. After ripping Juliet’s black tee from her body, the Ruthless Russian Assassin thrusts the elder Bloodwind’s sternum down against the middle turnbuckle. Using her bodyweight to keep the Native American beauty in place, Koslova pulls her opponent’s arms underneath the middle buckle, crossing them at the wrists…
… and, with the official’s attention even more firmly affixed to Polly and Nyssa now that the TRUE American has both her hands wrapped around the Nubile Navajo’s throat in a blatant choke, Kira transforms Juliet’s t-shirt into bindings, tying the brunette’s hands together.
Across the ring and blissfully unaware of what’s happened with the other two women, the referee orders Lockwood off her prey.
“Screw you,” the Fox & Friendly blonde snarls up at him. “AND your witch hunt, while you’re at it!”
Finally, the zebra starts to count, reaching “THREE!” before Polly rips her hands clear of Nyssa’s neck. As her partner saunters over to them, the elder Bloodwind thoroughly neutralized for the moment, the TRUE American pulls the Nubile Navajo up to a seated position, before her fingers slip underneath the hem of Nyssa’s tee. She pulls the garment up until the inside-out fabric obscures the younger Bloodwind’s face from view, Nyssa’s arms forced high above her head. And that’s how Lockwood leaves it, slipping her hands underneath Bloodwind’s raised limbs to roughly cup her breasts—and to use that grip to muscle the two-time former Lightweight champion up to her feet.
And as Polly holds her steady, Kira Koslova launches a flurry of left and right jabs to Nyssa’s defenseless breadbasket, each fist ‘THWAP!’ing off the faux deerskin, the black cotton tee swallowing up much of the Native American warrior’s grunts and groans. This earns another count from the official, and once again at “THREE!”, Lockwood sends the Nubile Navajo stumbling toward Koslova with a shove to the back.
And, FINALLY, the TRUE American turns toward the ropes, seemingly satisfied to take her place in the corner.
Kira, meanwhile, belatedly finished the job of removing Nyssa’s t-shirt. And, just as she had done with Juliet’s, the Russian redhead quickly finds a transformative use for the younger Bloodwind’s garment. Only in this case, Koslova quickly fashions the fabric into a garrote, slipping it over Nyssa’s noggin before pulling it TIGHT across her throat! Instantly, the smaller girl’s eyes begin to bulge, and her hands fly up toward the shirt. But before the ref can even open his mouth to castigate her, Koslova is on the move, charging toward the near ropes, Nyssa forced along for the ride…
… until the Nubile Navajo is launched OVER the top rope, her t-shirt now shifting from a garrote to a gawddamned NOOSE!
Nyssa’s fingers continue to claw at the cotton, her legs kicking wildly, SEVERAL inches of air between the floor and the soles of her Uggs. And while the Nubile Navajo’s complexion starts to take on an increasingly purple hue, behind her, Kira’s expression is perhaps even more unsettling for what ISN’T on display: namely, any sense of malice, or anger, or hatred.
Only purpose.
While referees in FAWN generally find themselves under strict guidance from upper management to provide the women in the ring with plenty of slack when it comes to the rules, ‘slack’ is one luxury that Nyssa Bloodwind presently does not have. And, drawing a distinction a hand under the trunks and an actual HANGING, not only does the ref start his count a little quicker than usual, the count itself passes by at a rapid pace. But even so, before he can reach “FIVE!”, the Russian redhead lets go of both ends of the tee, allowing gravity to pull down the Nubile Navajo, Nyssa Bloodwind CRASHING to the floor below.
Koslova raises her hands, taking a couple of steps back toward the center of the ring. “WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU, KIRA???” the official demands to know. “You could have KILLED her there! Do you understand that???”
Kira barely so much as blinks in response.
But while one half of Collusion receives a tongue lashing, the other slips around the ringpost, Polly practically salivating as she looks down on her mewling rival, Nyssa just now managing to roll over to her back. The Fox & Friendly blonde takes a couple of quick strides down the apron, then jumps into the sky, a number of front row FAWNatics pleading with Bloodwind to roll out of the way as Lockwood’s knees draw up toward her chest.
Instead, the TRUE American lands a wicked mushroom stomp to Nyssa’s modest jugs, the Nubile Navajo tumbling over to her belly before a jolt of pain from her chest pressing into the floor sends Nyssa rolling to her back once again, her arms rising up to cradle her aching bosom.
Kira gazes down with satisfaction at Polly taking apart the Native American, knowing she’d provided the leverage to take control of women who’d given her new friend so much trouble in the past.
With two women out of the squared circle and two women in, the official sees a chance to regain control of the match to some degree. His eyes leave the brawl on the outside and turn to Juliet. Koslova notices the man out of the corner of her eye and the redhead’s concentration follows his to the opposite side of the ring and Jules. The elder Bloodwind’s used the considerable time spent on busting her sister to work her binding loose.
Unfortunately, as she slips the shirt off her wrists, Koslova arrives with a discus lariat that nearly removes the head of the Tempe Temptress from her shoulders, Juliet forced into half a backflip, landing in sickening fashion on her neck and head.
DISCUS LARIAT:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=0JAptFiLAVE
As the FAWNatics groan in sympathy, the Russian hovers over the motionless Bloodwind but doesn’t go for the pin. She nudges Juliet with a push of her boot to spread the Native American into a tawny starfish then calls for Lockwood.
“PAWLY,” she shouts with a thick Russian accent. “She is waiting for you.”
Interrupting her Thesz Press bombardment of her longtime rival, the True American turns, a grin blossoming. She pushes off the splattered Nyssa and claims a corner as Collusion’s, rising to mat. She stretches her arm over the top cable and Kira slaps hands with the little blonde hardbody.
“Pozhaluysta,” Kira says, slipping through the cables to take her place without the hint of a double team on her mind.
The Star Spangled Bytch rushes through the ropes and dives across the still splayed Juliet for the pin and the win with the count of…
ONE…
TWO…
The Arizonan kicks free, sending Polly to her haunches, a look of disappointment she shares as much with Koslova as the referee. Still, there’s fun to be had at Juliet’s expense and she tugs Bloodwind up to her knees. Polly provides the Navajo a wicked open hand to her foe’s cleavage. The ‘SMACK’ rings through the arena and Polly beams at the reflexive ‘WOOO’ from the crowd.
“You think that’s something?” she shouts.
Lockwood hauls the wincing but more woken Jules to her feet and unloads again, the overhand palm strike hitting the same target and leaving a glowing, stinging handprint inches above Bloodwind’s bosom.
Polly puckers her lips then shouts out “DAMN”, very impressed by the echoing clap.
“That’s a slap like no one has EVER seen before. The best!”
Polly turns to her partner and gets a steely nod of confirmation.
“But it’s not really a Bytch Slap unless it turns a head,” she adds.
Lockwood loads and sends her third in a trajectory toward Jules’ left cheek, but the Temptress has other ideas. She blocks with a left forearm then pivots and delivers a right backhand chop to the chest of the shorter blonde. Polly is rocked onto her heels and is sent backpedaling when Juliet connects with another and another, the Pernicious Patriot in full stumbling retreat until the buckles of the Bloodwinds’ corner stops her reversal.
It’s there Jules lights up Lockwood with a signature Knife-edge Massacre that has the crowd quickly forgetting the early Bloodwind setbacks and trying to keep count of the lightning swats to Polly’s chest that has the True American yelping like a scalded dog.
KNIFE-EDGE MASSACRE:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=8doUJsDnGL8
Finally relenting after what seems like it might be twenty, Juliet takes a glance to the floor and sees a wobbly Nyssa arriving to the Bloodwinds’ campground. Determining her little sis could use more downtime, Juliet dips and scoops an arm between Polly’s abbreviated if sinewy, tanned stems. She hauls Lockwood off the canvas and lays her foe across her right shoulder. Surging forward a couple steps, Bloodwind powerslams Polly to the deck, the Fox&Friendly blonde hitting HARD, bouncing an inch off the deck before settling in a pained heap. Lockwood’s spine curves after impact, Polly reaching to the base of her column to try and provide some relief, face etched in pain.
Kira watches stoically from the sidelines and remains that way as Juliet races to a set of ropes at the blonde’s side, rebounds, and leaps above the aching Lockwood. The Native beauty lands across her foe’s midriff with a snappy senton. Polly’s body jackknifes around the impact. Lying across the receding Lockwood, her back to Polly’s tanned tummy, Juliet reaches behind to hook a leg. She leans to the left and pulls Polly into a tight cradle, the future Trump-appointed appeals court justice wriggling as her butt cheeks point to the rafters for…
ONE…
TWO…
Lockwood fights free from her predicament, flopping to her side, Jules next to her, not surprised the Trumpian zealot has more fight in her. Grabbing the little blonde hardbody by a wrist and the scruff of her neck, Bloodwind hauls the slightly doubled Lockwood to her boot soles and draws her to Navajo territory. She hands off her legal standing to Nyssa with a tag but remains in the ring as the younger Bloodwind joins her.
“Illegal alien,” Polly coughs. “We need a wall. These ropes aren’t enough!”
Polly’s words are prescient as each Native American grappler takes a wrist and flings her across the canvas. Lockwood scurries to the opposite cables and rebounds toward a pair of charging Bloodwinds. But as the duo close, they drop to the canvas and trip Polly to the deck with a pair of drop toe holds, the Star Spangled Bytch left checking her wounded beak when she hits the canvas face first.
Simultaneously, each Bloodwind rolls to her feet with one of Polly’s legs in her possession, the sisters sharing a Boston Crab, testing Polly’s backbone in the extreme. After some carping that gives the Native Americans a chance to see how limber Lockwood’s vertebrae are, the ref finally starts his count. Juliet and Nyssa decide it’s time to test another part of the Fox&Friendly blonde’s anatomy, falling in opposite directions, they add a very special Navajo wishbone spread to tonight’s buffet. Each Arizonan hits the deck, forcing Polly into a brutal set of face-down splits. Instantaneously, the True American is shrieking in pain, collapsing into a fetal ball, her groin muscles ripped to shreds.
Kira remains attentive but impassive, leaving it to the ref to scold Juliet for her tardiness in leaving. He guides the elder Bloodwind to her corner as Nyssa forces the mewling Lockwood out of her cocoon and up to a bow-legged stance. The blonde learns Jules doesn’t have anything on her sibling when it comes to vicious chops, the Nubile One laying into a three-spot of heavy backhands that send Polly to the ropes.
The blonde pops forward from the connection of back to strands and into Nyssa’s scooping arms. The Native beauty lays the aching flag-waver over her right shoulder, but instead of following Juliet’s lead with a slam, Nyssa wraps both arms around her rival and genuflects, apparently trying to force Polly’s left shoulder out of its socket.
SHOULDERBREAKER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=CPT2hMX5WKM
The Star Spangled Bytch howls in pain, cradling her throbbing limb close, cursing not-so-sweet nothings over her breath. Bloodwind isn’t interested in the insults or allowing Lockwood any recovery time. She snatches the injured wing at the wrist and pulls the limb out from Polly’s taut torso. She yanks a yelping Polly to her knees and mounts the limb in a straddle. Leaping into the air with the arm still hers, Nyssa drives her backside down HARD into Polly’s left shoulder joint, determined to leave the Russian newcomer with a hobbled, one-armed partner.
Lockwood wails in agony. Her redheaded colluder from Russia’s north barely moving and barely moved.
“Fight,” Kira demands of Lockwood solemnly. “Show them you are eagle flying high over desert snakes.”
Pulling the leader of the Polly Patriots up to rubbery legs, Nyssa allows herself a moment to glance over her shoulder at the Russian redhead. “Only two snakes in this ring,” the younger Bloodwind observes, “and you’re one of ‘em.” Turning her attention back to her legal opponent, she adds, “Though this one’s looking more like a garden snake at the moment…”
Drawing back her choppin’ hand, the Nubile Navajo unloads with another blow to the chest that rocks Lockwood back on her heels. A second one follows, which actually knocks the diminutive blonde into a brief backpedal, but her retreat is halted when Nyssa snatches her foe’s wrist and whips her toward the far corner…
… at least, that was the plan. But Polly proves to have a little left in reserve, summoning a reversal and launching her nemesis in a race toward the buckles. However, the Star Spangled Bytch isn’t the only resourceful woman in the ring at the moment, and instead of either hurtling head on into the buckles or swiveling into a spine-jostling collision, Nyssa vaults to a perch on the middle buckle—one she maintains for only a brief moment before launching herself backward, twisting her body to catch her longtime rival with a rebound crossbody…
REBOUND FLYING CROSSBODY:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=-fVba8BTGqs
But no one knows you like a longtime rival, and when Nyssa goes high, Polly goes low, dropping to the canvas and leaving the Nubile Navajo’s crossbody to meet nothing but air. And then, of course, unforgiving canvas, Nyssa’s arms doing little to brace her impact. The TRUE American quickly rises to her knees and scampers into friendly territory, reaching through the ropes to land a swat to Koslova’s posterior—which counts as much as a tag as anything else.
For the tiniest fraction of a second, something akin to disgust at her partner’s seeming cowardice flickers across the Russian’s features. But that doesn’t stop Kira from slipping through the ropes, the cold-blooded Russian appearing almost disinterested as she returns to the ring. But that lack of concern dissipates the moment she spots the Nubile Navajo reaching her feet, Nyssa’s older sister stretching a hand over the top rope toward her in anticipation of a tag…
Her expression hardening into a focused snarl, Koslova EXPLODES out of her corner, racing toward Nyssa from behind, her right arm rising up to her side—and that arm SLAMS into the back of Bloodwind’s neck with a WICKED running clothesline that sends the smaller brunette crashing to the canvas face down for a second time, only in this instance, the combination of the surprise impact and the power with which the Russian Assassin strikes renders Nyssa’s arms even less capable of breaking her fall than before, and she is left twitching, face down on the mat.
Swinging a leg over the waist of the supine Navajo, Koslova steps into a standing straddle of the former Lightweight champion. Only instead of continuing to direct her attention toward the downed Bloodwind, the redhead instead locks eyes with the Native American beauty standing in the corner. And as Juliet’s arm begins to drop, Koslova’s rises, her hand waving to invite the Tempe Temptress to enter the ring, tag or no tag.
The elder Bloodwind cocks an eyebrow, and goes as far as to slip a leg through the ropes. But even before the referee takes a step toward her to head her off, Juliet pauses. “Careful what you ask for, Natasha,” the former Intercontinental champion cautions her. “Boris over there doesn’t scare me, and you don’t, either.”
“I don’t need your fear,” Kira answers, reaching down and gathering up Nyssa’s wrists. Pulling back on the younger Bloodwind’s arms while placing a boot between the brunette’s shoulderblades, the Russian beauty concludes, “And I will TAKE your respect.” Koslova eases the pressure from her boot, which had been the only thing preventing her grip on the Nubile Navajo’s wrists from hoisting the brunette’s upper body into the air.
And as she releases Nyssa’s wrists, Koslova STOMPS down, DRIVING the Native American’s face into the canvas with merciless force.
Though she continues to regard the FAWN newcomer with a withering glare, the Tempe Temptress reluctantly withdraws her gam from the ropes, while Kira grabs a handful of Nyssa’s raven locks and tugs the Nubile Navajo back to verticality. With the younger Bloodwind’s back to her own corner, Koslova guides Nyssa’s noggin under her left arm, before underhooking the Native American warrior’s wings. Then, with nary a grunt of effort, the Ruthless Russian pops her hips and launches Nyssa overhead, sending the smaller woman sailing toward Collusion’s corner, until she plummets to the mat, her back slamming into the canvas via a Butterfly Suplex.
BUTTERFLY SUPLEX:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=-Ajjp5D63YQ
The force of her landing propels the Nubile Navajo up to a seated position, eyes closed and spine arched as she reaches a hand to her throbbing lower back—all of which means that she feels to see infuriating smirk on the lips of the Star Spangled Bytch, Polly Lockwood calling for a tag. Kira proves to have no objections, scraping Nyssa off the deck before pressing the former two-time Lightweight champion back against the ropes. After reaching a hand to slap the American blonde’s, Koslova whips Bloodwind toward the far ropes. Keeping a firm grip on her tag rope, Juliet Bloodwind slides down the apron, as far out of her corner as she can while still maintaining possession of the cord with one hand, and reaches her other hand in an effort to slap her sister’s shoulder…
… but alas, her fingertips come up several inches short as the Nubile Navajo rebounds back toward enemy territory.
Once Kira had cleared the path for her, Polly takes possession of the middle rope with both hands, rocking backward on the apron as her nemesis charges toward her. And after waiting for JUST the right moment, Polly launches herself through the cables, her shoulder PLOWING into Nyssa’s midriff, the Lockwood Lunge striking with even greater force than usual thanks to the helping hand of her comrade. The Nubile Navajo lets out a loud cry as she hits the deck, one arm falling across her impaled abdomen as her knees draw up toward her chest. But Lockwood quickly peels the brunette out of her shell, forcing her shoulders flat against the mat before applying the lateral press…
LOCKWOOD LUNGE:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=UGxpozfZujs
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
A still gurgling Nyssa gets a shoulder up.
Sitting back on her haunches, Lockwood glares up at the official. “You were a ref during the Obama years, weren’t you?” she accuses. “Damn, biased Democrats…”
Instead of climbing to her feet, the Fox & Friendly blonde remains on her knees, grabbing a double fistful of hair and dragging Nyssa over to the ropes. Forcing the Nubile Navajo’s throat down across the bottom cable, Polly plants a knee between her hated rival’s shoulderblades, pulling up on the middle rope with all her might while driving her full body weight down against Nyssa’s back.
“KNOCK IT OFF, POLLY!” the official barks, but no one in the building—least of all the man himself—is surprised when the TRUE American ignores the order. And so, he launches a count, Lockwood taking it to the very edge of an indictment before easing off at “FOUR!” And while the pocket hardbody picks herself off the mat, turning toward the ref, a gagging, gasping Nyssa rolls over, the back of her neck resting against the rubber coated steel as she reaches a hand to massage her reddened windpipe…
… which proves a mistake.
While Polly and the ref continue to jaw at one another, Kira Koslova grabs the top rope with both hands and steps up—not onto the bottom cable, but onto the upturned mug of the Nubile Navajo! Nyssa’s hands fly up to push against the Russian’s shins, her shapely legs kicking helplessly…
ROPE ASSISTED DOUBLE FOOT PRESS:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=FRp3iGprLAA
… and absolutely NONE of this registers with the official, who continues to explain to Polly that he is a registered Independent.
Coming to the conclusion that it’s up to her, the Tempe Temptress shoots through the ropes, the FAWNatics roaring in approval as the elder Bloodwind races toward the opposite corner. Unfortunately, at the direction of the Star Spangled Bytch, the referee FINALLY notices something, and steps in to halt her approach. Juliet attempts to muscle by him, spurred on in part by a raised middle finger from Polly Lockwood, but he wrestled to keep control of the intruder, and to usher her back to the Bloodwind corner.
Raising her hands above her head, Lockwood brings her palms together in an echoing clap, which serves as Kira’s cue to dismount her prey and slip through the ropes. She grabs a handful of Nyssa’s locks and pulls the Native American warrior up to her knees, Polly slides out onto the apron. “You claim to be TRUE representative of this country?” the redhead mutters, the fingers of her right hand beginning to curl. “You are PATHETIC… which does make Polly and my jobs so important.”
With sudden fury, Koslova’s curled fingers PLUNGE into Nyssa’s skull, her knuckles quickly growing white as the Ruthless Russian Assassin slaps on an iron claw!
“Mark my words,” Kira hisses, her left hand coiling around her right wrist. “You will end this night face down in your own drool. More dignity than you deserve to be left with.”
Sinking backward, her glutes pressing heavier and heavier against her heels, Nyssa sends a couple of fists into Kira’s stomach. But those first two blows do little to lessen the force of her clawhold, and how many more shots did the Nubile Navajo have in her before that claw would start rendering her arms leaden?
The desperate Navajo warrior’s hands clench tight around the wrist of Koslova’s right hand. Over the increasingly glazed eyes of Bloodwind, Nyssa tries to pry the claw off her skull, but Kira’s fingers seem drilled into the bone and the younger sibling can’t budge them.
Bloodwind’s biceps start to shake then grow slack, falling to her sides. It’s more than a smoke signal and it can’t be ignored. Juliet slides through the cables and, despite Polly’s shrill warning to the ref, makes it to the ongoing annihilation of her sister. The Tempe Temptress BLASTS Kira in the temple with a raised boot to break up the looming knockout. The impact sends the Russian spinning into a heap, tangled with the folded and weakened Nyssa. Showing the first hint of vulnerability, Koslova tries to push to her feet but the concussive blow sends her dropping to her haunches where she shakes an attic full of cobwebs.
On the outside, Lockwood wails at the illegal intrusion, calling on the official to bundle the furious Jules back to her proper location.
“Do your job, sir,” the little blonde hardbody demands. “Or my Patriots and I will make sure Bethany hires someone who can clean up this swamp of cheats.”
Perhaps lighting a fire under the supposed man in charge, a contented Polly watches as the ref forces Juliet back and out.
With Kira on her feet and showing what seems her closest approximation to anger, the European colluder tugs a still dazed Nyssa up on her rubbery legs.
“Mine,” the Star Spangled Bytch informs Koslova. “That squaw has soiled the reputation of our great land for too long and only I can end it properly.”
Kira leans Nyssa’s head back and POUNDS a fist right between the dark eyes of the Navajo, knocking much of what sense remains from Bloodwind’s braincase. The redhead draws the barely ambulatory Arizonan to her corner, Nyssa guided zombie-like to the Collusion home where Kira deferentially slaps the outstretched hand of the TRUE American.
A grinning Lockwood slips between the cables, but demands Koslova not leave just yet. She directs her fellow colluder to wrap a bearhug around Nyssa’s waistline and lift Bloodwind high. The Russian does as she’s told, stepping several feet from the corner while doing so. Polly climbs to the middle ropes in her corner and leaps from her perch. The tawny blonde missile viciously clotheslines the Nubile One out of the redhead’s clutches, RIPPING her foe to the deck in a brutal backflip that sees the Navajo SLAM to the deck on her chest after the ¾ revolution.
Nimbly, the pernicious patriot lands on her knees and slides to a stop, not bothering to look back on the damage she’s wrought. She beams at Juliet, offering Bloodwind a wave before turning stern.
“Don’t even THINK of running in to save sis. My Russian friend wouldn’t think of it, but I’ll sue your ass for trespassing and malicious mischief.”
Sure that a looming lawsuit will keep the elder Bloodwind in her place, Polly asks a departing Kira to haul Nyssa’s mostly deadweight up before she departs, Lockwood assuring the dazzling Russian beauty she’s so much better at that type of thing. There’s a hint of a scowl, but Kira scoops up the flaccid Nyssa under her arms and leans her into the Collusion corner before taking her leave.
Polly doesn’t hesitate, racing to her target. She stops a couple feet out and swings her leg like a pendulum between the slightly parted stems of her tawny-skinned foe, punting pussy. Nyssa’s eyes roll white as the official scolds an anything but penitent Polly. Bloodwind starts to melt down the corner, but Lockwood, after removing her invading boot, swings an uppercut thrust of a viciously curled set of talons in the boot’s place.
The ruby-tipped stilettoes sink into the thin covering of the Nubile One’s crotch and squeeeeze the tender tissue beneath.
“Da…DA,” Kira nods adding to her verbal approval. “It is time to show dis girl how big your palm is and how powerful your Presidential Handshake.”
Polly’s perfect pearlies grit tight as she works Nyssa like a hand puppet, clenching her digits as she stuffs them further between the howling Nyssa’s thighs.
“ASK HER!” the True American demands.
“She’s in the ropes, Polly,” the man replies, a hint of a stutter in his voice. “You have to get her out.”
“Always the letter of the law and never the spirit with you bleeding hearts,” the Star Spangled Bytch growls.
Polly opens the curl in her fingers and presses a palm into Nyssa’s sweet spot. She shoves her left hand into the chest of the bent, gasping Bloodwind and flips her foe over her shoulders. It’s not a powerful landing, but it’s several feet from the ropes, shutting up the ref. Nyssa tries to get to all fours and crawl to her beseeching sibling, but the throbbing from Polly pressing the flesh in her manic manner sends Bloodwind tumbling into a fetal ball center stage.
Lockwood moves to her corner and snatches Old Glory. She waves it proudly and much of the crowd has the temerity to boo the Stars-n-Stripes. The bite-sized blonde furiously curses at the slight to her and her symbol of righteousness. Tossing her banner back to Kira, she spins back to the stubborn Nyssa, somehow the Indian brave having made it to one knee.
Polly sprints to her foe and, using the raised joint as a launching pad, CLUNKS a stiff kick to Nyssa’s temple, Lockwood’s Shining Wizard flattening the Nubile Navajo to the canvas in a starfish, at least supplying some anesthesia for the gobsmacked Bloodwind.
Showing pity toward the Arizona native, the True American passes on a pin and strides to her corner, tagging the hand of Koslova.
“My friend,” Polly says, “show these morons how a true friend of this country deals with its rabble.”
Lockwood motions to the splayed mess Nyssa’s been made and Kira doesn’t hesitate, splitting the ropes leg after leg and marching to the softly stirring Native American beauty.
The redhead hauls Nyssa to her feet and Bloodwind shows the fight that’s kept her a go-to member of the roster for show after show, sending an elbow into the breadbasket of her foe. The newcomer from St. Petersburg’s progress slowed, she’s seems stopped altogether when the Nubile Navajo drives another into Kira’s chest. But the momentary comeback is quelled with an elbow of Koslova’s own, this one raised high and brought down on the crown of Nyssa’s cranium.
Quickly wrapping her right arm around the back of Nyssa’s neck, the Russian athlete forges toward a neutral corner with Bloodwind in tow and DRIVES the forehead of the Native American into the middle buckle with a vicious Turnbuckle Bulldog.
TURNBUCKLE BULLDOG:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=RhIIQ65-QFU
Nyssa bounces away from the impact, ending in a wide spreadeagle, gazing blankly at the rafters above. Instantly, Kira leaps into the middle rope to her side and springboards through a u-turn to deliver a leg drop across the throat of Bloodwind. But Nyssa rolls clear and Koslova only SPIKES her tailbone into the unforgiving deck.
As a rare look of pain graces Kira’s features, the seated Russian massaging the base of her spine, the FAWNatics find a spark of hope and rhythmically clap as Nyssa pushes up to all fours and heads for the relief of her beckoning sibling.
The eager, elder Bloodwind stretches to the limit the tag rope will allow and is inches from entering when she drops like a stone. Pins pulled out from under her by the underhanded flag-waver, Jules’ chin BANGS off the apron, head snapping back from the collision.
Managing to remain upright if bowed, Juliet wobbles in front of a despondent Nyssa, the Navajo warrior watching Lockwood remain one step ahead of payback. Nyssa can only turn her head when an onrushing Polly demolishes her sister with a nearly decapitating Bytchkilla, the back of Juliet’s skull banging against the scarcely padded floor.
BYTCHKILLA @0:10:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wrn-k3TPel4
The Star Spangled Bytch slides to a stop and raises her arms high and wide in victory. In the corner nearest the devastation, Nyssa pulls to her feet, leaning into the ropes and looking down on the bite-sized blonde, threatening revenge.
“You have bigger things to worry about,” Lockwood replies.
From behind, Koslova sinks her nails into the ebony locks of the Navajo. She rips Nyssa to the middle of the ring then makes a right turn and heads for the ropes, dragging the beleaguered Bloodwind with her. The Russian pops to the middle cable and springboards out, dropping to her knees and PLANTING face to canvas, Nyssa demolished with a facebuster
SPRINGBOARD KNEELING FACEBUSTER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q9Fm2mN_Nzw
The younger Bloodwind flops to her back, ripe for the picking and the pinning, but Kira passes on a three-count to make a larger statement, as if Collusion had not already made it in dominating former tag tam champions.
Instead, the Russian waits as the stubborn Nyssa fights to her feet, Polly on the outside mockingly applauding the toughness of the Navajo. From behind the Russian strikes, capturing Bloodwind’s arms then trading control of each for a stronger grip on the left, folding the limb.
The redhead flips to the deck dragging the mostly flaccid Nyssa with her. Koslova snakes her limbs around the waylaid Navajo, imprisoning Nyssa in her Beartrap.
BEARTRAP:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=UHPuTcDwZfk
The cobra clutch triangle choke immediately saps what’s left of Bloodwind’s fight from her and it takes but a few moments for Nyssa to be rendered unconscious by the brutal finisher.
Under the watchful eye of the ref, Bloodwind is checked for any responsiveness. Failing a call from the official, the man lifts Nyssa’s right arm at the wrist and it drops leaden to the canvas.
He signals frantically for the bell and it tolls the end of the match. The announcer doesn’t hesitate, hoping his words will cause Koslova to release her death grip on her KO’ed foe.
“Your winners, by knockout, COLLUSION!”
There’s no such luck as a stone-faced Kira continues to apply the Beartrap, swinging the limp frame of Nyssa to and fro, playing with her defeated prey. Only when the ref threatens to overturn the decision does an entering Polly convince Kira to give up her grip.
The redhead unknots from her victim, Lockwood helping her new partner to her feet. The duo raises each other’s hand in victory under the rain of resounding jeers.
While some collusion could apparently be overlooked, all of FAWN surely realizes this version could not.
Those two words tell the savvy folks in the stands that the pause button is indeed about to be pressed, at least for the moment.
“… Juliet and Nyssa, THE BLLLOOOOOODDDWWWIIINNNDDD SIIISSSTTTEEERRRSSS!!!!!”
JULIET BLOODWIND:
NYSSA BLOODWIND:
”TESTIFY”:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q3dvbM6Pias
The burst of cheers is electric as the PA system blasts Rage Against the Machine's ‘Testify‘. Within moments, the Tempe Temptress and the Nubile Navajo emerge atop the ramp, to a thunderous ovation for the sisters Bloodwind. Their emergence also gives the fans in the stands another clue that things might be momentarily slowing down, as both brunettes wear identical black t-shirts that sport a pair of bronzed, curvy silhouettes bookending a pair of words, “NAVAJO NATION”, in matching print, one on top of the other, by leaning back against them, each woman’s shadow with a raised boot resting against an ‘N’ in the bottom word. But below the hem of those tees, the faux deerskin bikini bottoms and Nyssa’s trademark “half loin cloth” that both sisters wear tonight, suggests that they are still prepared for a fight.
Juliet and Nyssa make their way down the aisle, slapping hands with those along the railing. At ringside, the pair complete their circuit around the ring, continuing to press the flesh with the assembled fans. Their lap concluded, Juliet and Nyssa move quickly toward the ring, gracefully hopping onto the apron. With her back to the ropes, arms draped over the top rope, the elder Bloodwind gives a suggestive wiggle of her hips before leaning backward, flipping herself over the top rope and landing on her feet inside the ring. While the crowd reacted appreciatively to Juliet's exhibition, their volume only increases as Nyssa follow her partner's lead, the Nubile Navajo grinning as she sticks the landing flawlessly, both beauties now in the ring.
Elder and younger Bloodwind march to opposing corners, Juliet and Nyssa each hopping onto the middle buckle, pumping a fist and egging the crowd on. Jumping down, the sisters turn back and saunter toward mid-ring, the Tempe Temptress accepting the offered microphone from the ring announcer with a smile. “HOW ARE WE ALL DOING TONIGHT, ORLANDO?” Juliet asked, lobbing a softball that the FAWNatics pounced on, erupting into a deafening roar.
“I’m feeling good,” the elder Bloodwind responds with a nod. “I’ll be feeling better after I hang three straight ‘L’s on a certain smug, self-absorbed skank.”
THAT draws a few gasps from the capacity crowd.
“But tonight… tonight, Nyssa and I have been sitting backstage, enjoying the show. And we got to thinking…”
Reaching over, the Nubile Navajo took Juliet’s hand, tilting the stick toward her lips.
“Mainly, we got to thinking that it’s been TOO DAMN LONG since Jules and I shared THIS ring!”
Judging by the eruption of cheers and applause, it would seem the FAWNatics agree.
“Of course,” Juliet continues, “even before tonight, Nys and I have been doing a little thinking. We’ve been thinking about the two women who currently hold the FAWN Tag Team titles. We’ve been thinking about the ONLY time that Nyssa and I have ever been able to get those two in a FAWN ring… and we’ve been thinking about how a certain chienne who shall remain nameless kept that one match from being a fair fight.”
And again, Nyssa directs the microphone her way.
“And how one Belle Butler assured us that, whenever we could arrange to have a fair fight, those Hellions would gladly give us one.”
Juliet raises a hand.
“Now, Nyssa and I aren’t about to try to jump to the head of the line. But, IF we’re going to get us a title shot, THEN we need to start facing—and BEATING—some of those teams ahead of us.”
This time, the Nubile Navajo takes the stick from her older sister, and moves to the ropes.
“So,” Nyssa calls back down the aisle, “who wants to come down and get scalped?”
There’s a few moments of silence. Enough to make the crowd uncomfortable. Then the arena’s speakers spark to life with the pounding of “America, F*ck Yeah” from Team America World Police, the song assaulting Orlando’s great unwashed.
”AMERICA, F*CK YEAH”:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=7R5A0pg4oN8
Blue America’s least favorite, little blonde antagonist strides to the center of the stage, the FAWNatics making clear where their wrestling voting preferences lie.
POLLY LOCKWOOD:
Being in Florida, more than a few scattered ‘Polly Patriots’ shoot to their feet in delight, saluting her and her anthem crisply. The majority make themselves known in a completely different fashion, raining a cascade of boos toward the obnoxious Trumpeter.
In the ring, Nyssa shakes her head with a sly grin, knowing she has the number of the Star Spangled Bytch as much as anyone else in her career and that no one in their right mind would trust Lockwood to be her partner.
Meanwhile, the flaxen-haired hardbody, seemingly unconcerned at her handicap, brings a salute to her brow to signal her Trumptastic troops then lets the snowflakes know what she thinks of them by fashioning the knife-edge into a salute of the middle finger variety.
The Fox&Friendly grappler is in her battle fatigues, Polly proudly sporting her customary hot pants and bikini top. Lockwood alternates her country’s colors between a shiny, eye catching blue topside, white stars prominently placed in the appropriate spots; and shimmering red and white-striped spandex below, the space age polymer barely covering her biscuit butt. She finishes the ensemble with gleaming white pads and boots.
The ‘True American’ has her customary cape, Old Glory draped over her shoulders as a cloak.
Lockwood crow hops into a jog to the ring, the flag waving behind her. She snarls at the moronic hordes who infest this great land and ignores their insults and jeers, taking a swipe at one sign proclaiming
”Behold America’s native wonders!”
“I’m the native,” Lockwood shouts. “They’re…squatters!”
The spiteful patriot ascends the steel steps. She hesitates, seemingly unsure whether the Bloodwinds will pounce and claim what they threatened to take earlier. Finally, Lockwood slides through the ropes at the Juliet’s urging. Polly removes the flag from her shoulders and holds the star-spangled banner high. Moving to a corner, she exchanges her banner for a microphone and walks to the center of the ring, pulling it to her lips.
“Big talk from a pair of injuns who can’t shoot their arrows straight,” Lockwood growls, drawing a rousing round of jeers from the audience. Showing no fear, she moves to the center where she’s confronted by Nyssa, the younger Bloodwind going chest to chest with Jules behind her, whispering in her sister’s ear. The Nubile Navajo raises her own mike and gets cut off by the future jurist.
”Don’t even,” your honor interrupts. “These people don’t want to hear fake news or see fake wrestling. And they know I could beat you all by lonesome…BECAUSE I’M A GOD DAMN AMERICAN!”
Lockwood smirks, over the echoing boos.
“But the fact is I don’t have to because there’s someone in this country who is a better person, an honorable person, someone who makes you Bloodwinds look…well…SAD!”
Nyssa chuckles as she’s patted on her shoulders from behind by big sis.
“There isn’t a person in this country,” Bloodwind informs, “heck in this world, who would trust your deceitful, shrunken heart as far as they can throw you, they might as far as I can throw you.”
The crowd interrupts with a loud, goading “OOOOOOOH” as Nyssa shrugs with a shit-eating grin.
Polly holds up a palm to stop any monologue Bloodwind might have in mind and Nyssa’s had enough. She stuffs a palm of her own into Polly’s chest and shoves her would-be foe back several steps, Juliet moving alongside her sibling in battle formation.
“Hold on,” Lockwood implores, catching her balance. “Me smoke’em peace pipe.”
The True American giggles as both Bloodwinds seem ready to make the Fox&Friendly blonde’s day particularly unpleasant.
“No…wait, wait, wait. I’m sorry,” Polly pleads. “Let me introduce you to my partner. I looked far and wide to find a woman who embodies the spirit of our forefathers and thank god I found her.”
Polly turns to the upper stage, sweeping an arm in that direction. The eyes of the Native beauties and the crowd move to the entrance. As they do, a woman pops over the guardrail from the sisters’ six. Throwing off a full length grey fur coat and white wool hat, the redhead slides into the ring, leaps to her feet, and lays a wicked forearm smash between Nyssa’s shoulderblades.
The younger Bloodwind stumbles toward Polly, who doubles over Nyssa with a penetrating toe kick. Lockwood grasps the Navajo’s noggin in a front facelock and PLANTS skull to canvas with a vicious DDT, Nyssa somersaulting to a splayed spreadeagle.
A startled Juliet turns into a whiplashing European Uppercut from the interloper that puts Temptress’ ass to canvas, Bloodwind blankly staring up at Russia’s not-so-cold warrior. Arms folded across her chest, a withering glare directed toward the seated Jules, the brutal introduction continues with a stomp to the forehead that flattens Juliet to horizontal.
“Let me acquaint you,” Polly shouts excitedly, the sight of the decked Bloodwinds making her adrenaline flow. “This is the beautiful and talented Kira Koslova. She hails from the St. Petersburg that matters.”
KIRA KOSLOVA:
The Russian beauty stands resolutely nearby in a simple red one piece, one unusual aspect of the suit— a pattern displaying a portion of Kira’s bronzed, toned abdomen, the cutout in the form of a hammer and sickle.
“As the President drains the swamp in DC so Kira and I will do it down here in FLA. And since it is arguably a bigger job and FAWN is a bigger shithole, the only way to clean out the tag ranks is with some well-oiled COLLUSION!”
Her piece said, Polly tosses the stick downward, the microphone striking the faux deerskin exposed by Nyssa’s somewhat raised t-shirt, the sound of both its impact and the groan expelled from the Nubile Navajo’s tummy played out over the PA system. Considering the bell had yet to ring, there’s not much the official can do against such a blatant transgression. Lockwood then demands the ref start the match, and together she and Koslova start putting the boots to the Bloodwinds before their foes can fully rise.
The bell clangs, bringing the match to order mid-free-for-all. If you could call this order, the TRUE American and her Ruthless Russian Assassin unrelenting in their barrage of kicks and stomps. The referee TRIES to insist that Polly and Kira allow one Bloodwind the opportunity to leave the ring and for one of them to depart herself, but though both blonde and redhead start to drag their respective Navajo warrior toward opposing corners, neither seems intent on departing anytime soon.
Lockwood hairhauls up her longtime nemesis, while Koslova pulls the Tempe Temptress back to her feet as well. And, as it turns out, the official’s suspicions are quickly born out when, instead of leaving the ring, Polly and Kira begin SLAMMING Nyssa’s and Juliet’s faces into the thin leather padding of the top turnbuckle.
“DAMMIT, GIRLS!!!” an exasperated zebra wails, raising his hand to begin a count on the quartet as the Nubile Navajo eats turnbuckle for a fifth time and her sister for a sixth. But, at almost the exact same moment, Polly and Kira each glance over a shoulder, making momentary eye contact and exchanging a nod. Each co-conspirator spins Nyssa and Polly so that their backs are to the buckles, then lean in, taking a wrist and whipping Jules and Nyssa toward a mid-ring collision…
… only instead of a head-on impact, the Tempe Temptress and Nubile Navajo link arms, their doe-si-doe drawing a cautious cheer from the capacity crowd inside the FAWN Arena, Navajo Nation eager to see their champions right the ship after Polly and Kira’s duplicitous strike…
… but while this might be the FAWNatics first exposure to the alliance between the Fox & Friendly blonde and the Russian redhead, it remains readily apparent that the duo has put in PLENTY of time in the shadows, honing their craft and their timing. Neither woman seems caught off guard by the Bloodwinds’ audible. Indeed, it almost appears that both women had EXPECTED this turn of events—and Lockwood and Koslova respond with identical dropkicks, Polly’s catching the charging Nyssa at chest level, while Kira’s soles slam into the chin of the Tempe Temptress, both Bloodwind sent sprawling to the deck.
And still, neither vixen is ready to leave the ring.
Desperate to impose his authority on the proceedings, the ref marches over to Nyssa and Polly, making the calculated decision that trying to defuse things between the two women with the greatest history of animosity between them would be the best path to getting this match properly on track. But as the Alt-Right’s favorite blonde climbs into a straddle of the Nubile Navajo’s chest, Kira Koslova drags a dazed Tempe Temptress into the near corner. After ripping Juliet’s black tee from her body, the Ruthless Russian Assassin thrusts the elder Bloodwind’s sternum down against the middle turnbuckle. Using her bodyweight to keep the Native American beauty in place, Koslova pulls her opponent’s arms underneath the middle buckle, crossing them at the wrists…
… and, with the official’s attention even more firmly affixed to Polly and Nyssa now that the TRUE American has both her hands wrapped around the Nubile Navajo’s throat in a blatant choke, Kira transforms Juliet’s t-shirt into bindings, tying the brunette’s hands together.
Across the ring and blissfully unaware of what’s happened with the other two women, the referee orders Lockwood off her prey.
“Screw you,” the Fox & Friendly blonde snarls up at him. “AND your witch hunt, while you’re at it!”
Finally, the zebra starts to count, reaching “THREE!” before Polly rips her hands clear of Nyssa’s neck. As her partner saunters over to them, the elder Bloodwind thoroughly neutralized for the moment, the TRUE American pulls the Nubile Navajo up to a seated position, before her fingers slip underneath the hem of Nyssa’s tee. She pulls the garment up until the inside-out fabric obscures the younger Bloodwind’s face from view, Nyssa’s arms forced high above her head. And that’s how Lockwood leaves it, slipping her hands underneath Bloodwind’s raised limbs to roughly cup her breasts—and to use that grip to muscle the two-time former Lightweight champion up to her feet.
And as Polly holds her steady, Kira Koslova launches a flurry of left and right jabs to Nyssa’s defenseless breadbasket, each fist ‘THWAP!’ing off the faux deerskin, the black cotton tee swallowing up much of the Native American warrior’s grunts and groans. This earns another count from the official, and once again at “THREE!”, Lockwood sends the Nubile Navajo stumbling toward Koslova with a shove to the back.
And, FINALLY, the TRUE American turns toward the ropes, seemingly satisfied to take her place in the corner.
Kira, meanwhile, belatedly finished the job of removing Nyssa’s t-shirt. And, just as she had done with Juliet’s, the Russian redhead quickly finds a transformative use for the younger Bloodwind’s garment. Only in this case, Koslova quickly fashions the fabric into a garrote, slipping it over Nyssa’s noggin before pulling it TIGHT across her throat! Instantly, the smaller girl’s eyes begin to bulge, and her hands fly up toward the shirt. But before the ref can even open his mouth to castigate her, Koslova is on the move, charging toward the near ropes, Nyssa forced along for the ride…
… until the Nubile Navajo is launched OVER the top rope, her t-shirt now shifting from a garrote to a gawddamned NOOSE!
Nyssa’s fingers continue to claw at the cotton, her legs kicking wildly, SEVERAL inches of air between the floor and the soles of her Uggs. And while the Nubile Navajo’s complexion starts to take on an increasingly purple hue, behind her, Kira’s expression is perhaps even more unsettling for what ISN’T on display: namely, any sense of malice, or anger, or hatred.
Only purpose.
While referees in FAWN generally find themselves under strict guidance from upper management to provide the women in the ring with plenty of slack when it comes to the rules, ‘slack’ is one luxury that Nyssa Bloodwind presently does not have. And, drawing a distinction a hand under the trunks and an actual HANGING, not only does the ref start his count a little quicker than usual, the count itself passes by at a rapid pace. But even so, before he can reach “FIVE!”, the Russian redhead lets go of both ends of the tee, allowing gravity to pull down the Nubile Navajo, Nyssa Bloodwind CRASHING to the floor below.
Koslova raises her hands, taking a couple of steps back toward the center of the ring. “WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU, KIRA???” the official demands to know. “You could have KILLED her there! Do you understand that???”
Kira barely so much as blinks in response.
But while one half of Collusion receives a tongue lashing, the other slips around the ringpost, Polly practically salivating as she looks down on her mewling rival, Nyssa just now managing to roll over to her back. The Fox & Friendly blonde takes a couple of quick strides down the apron, then jumps into the sky, a number of front row FAWNatics pleading with Bloodwind to roll out of the way as Lockwood’s knees draw up toward her chest.
Instead, the TRUE American lands a wicked mushroom stomp to Nyssa’s modest jugs, the Nubile Navajo tumbling over to her belly before a jolt of pain from her chest pressing into the floor sends Nyssa rolling to her back once again, her arms rising up to cradle her aching bosom.
Kira gazes down with satisfaction at Polly taking apart the Native American, knowing she’d provided the leverage to take control of women who’d given her new friend so much trouble in the past.
With two women out of the squared circle and two women in, the official sees a chance to regain control of the match to some degree. His eyes leave the brawl on the outside and turn to Juliet. Koslova notices the man out of the corner of her eye and the redhead’s concentration follows his to the opposite side of the ring and Jules. The elder Bloodwind’s used the considerable time spent on busting her sister to work her binding loose.
Unfortunately, as she slips the shirt off her wrists, Koslova arrives with a discus lariat that nearly removes the head of the Tempe Temptress from her shoulders, Juliet forced into half a backflip, landing in sickening fashion on her neck and head.
DISCUS LARIAT:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=0JAptFiLAVE
As the FAWNatics groan in sympathy, the Russian hovers over the motionless Bloodwind but doesn’t go for the pin. She nudges Juliet with a push of her boot to spread the Native American into a tawny starfish then calls for Lockwood.
“PAWLY,” she shouts with a thick Russian accent. “She is waiting for you.”
Interrupting her Thesz Press bombardment of her longtime rival, the True American turns, a grin blossoming. She pushes off the splattered Nyssa and claims a corner as Collusion’s, rising to mat. She stretches her arm over the top cable and Kira slaps hands with the little blonde hardbody.
“Pozhaluysta,” Kira says, slipping through the cables to take her place without the hint of a double team on her mind.
The Star Spangled Bytch rushes through the ropes and dives across the still splayed Juliet for the pin and the win with the count of…
ONE…
TWO…
The Arizonan kicks free, sending Polly to her haunches, a look of disappointment she shares as much with Koslova as the referee. Still, there’s fun to be had at Juliet’s expense and she tugs Bloodwind up to her knees. Polly provides the Navajo a wicked open hand to her foe’s cleavage. The ‘SMACK’ rings through the arena and Polly beams at the reflexive ‘WOOO’ from the crowd.
“You think that’s something?” she shouts.
Lockwood hauls the wincing but more woken Jules to her feet and unloads again, the overhand palm strike hitting the same target and leaving a glowing, stinging handprint inches above Bloodwind’s bosom.
Polly puckers her lips then shouts out “DAMN”, very impressed by the echoing clap.
“That’s a slap like no one has EVER seen before. The best!”
Polly turns to her partner and gets a steely nod of confirmation.
“But it’s not really a Bytch Slap unless it turns a head,” she adds.
Lockwood loads and sends her third in a trajectory toward Jules’ left cheek, but the Temptress has other ideas. She blocks with a left forearm then pivots and delivers a right backhand chop to the chest of the shorter blonde. Polly is rocked onto her heels and is sent backpedaling when Juliet connects with another and another, the Pernicious Patriot in full stumbling retreat until the buckles of the Bloodwinds’ corner stops her reversal.
It’s there Jules lights up Lockwood with a signature Knife-edge Massacre that has the crowd quickly forgetting the early Bloodwind setbacks and trying to keep count of the lightning swats to Polly’s chest that has the True American yelping like a scalded dog.
KNIFE-EDGE MASSACRE:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=8doUJsDnGL8
Finally relenting after what seems like it might be twenty, Juliet takes a glance to the floor and sees a wobbly Nyssa arriving to the Bloodwinds’ campground. Determining her little sis could use more downtime, Juliet dips and scoops an arm between Polly’s abbreviated if sinewy, tanned stems. She hauls Lockwood off the canvas and lays her foe across her right shoulder. Surging forward a couple steps, Bloodwind powerslams Polly to the deck, the Fox&Friendly blonde hitting HARD, bouncing an inch off the deck before settling in a pained heap. Lockwood’s spine curves after impact, Polly reaching to the base of her column to try and provide some relief, face etched in pain.
Kira watches stoically from the sidelines and remains that way as Juliet races to a set of ropes at the blonde’s side, rebounds, and leaps above the aching Lockwood. The Native beauty lands across her foe’s midriff with a snappy senton. Polly’s body jackknifes around the impact. Lying across the receding Lockwood, her back to Polly’s tanned tummy, Juliet reaches behind to hook a leg. She leans to the left and pulls Polly into a tight cradle, the future Trump-appointed appeals court justice wriggling as her butt cheeks point to the rafters for…
ONE…
TWO…
Lockwood fights free from her predicament, flopping to her side, Jules next to her, not surprised the Trumpian zealot has more fight in her. Grabbing the little blonde hardbody by a wrist and the scruff of her neck, Bloodwind hauls the slightly doubled Lockwood to her boot soles and draws her to Navajo territory. She hands off her legal standing to Nyssa with a tag but remains in the ring as the younger Bloodwind joins her.
“Illegal alien,” Polly coughs. “We need a wall. These ropes aren’t enough!”
Polly’s words are prescient as each Native American grappler takes a wrist and flings her across the canvas. Lockwood scurries to the opposite cables and rebounds toward a pair of charging Bloodwinds. But as the duo close, they drop to the canvas and trip Polly to the deck with a pair of drop toe holds, the Star Spangled Bytch left checking her wounded beak when she hits the canvas face first.
Simultaneously, each Bloodwind rolls to her feet with one of Polly’s legs in her possession, the sisters sharing a Boston Crab, testing Polly’s backbone in the extreme. After some carping that gives the Native Americans a chance to see how limber Lockwood’s vertebrae are, the ref finally starts his count. Juliet and Nyssa decide it’s time to test another part of the Fox&Friendly blonde’s anatomy, falling in opposite directions, they add a very special Navajo wishbone spread to tonight’s buffet. Each Arizonan hits the deck, forcing Polly into a brutal set of face-down splits. Instantaneously, the True American is shrieking in pain, collapsing into a fetal ball, her groin muscles ripped to shreds.
Kira remains attentive but impassive, leaving it to the ref to scold Juliet for her tardiness in leaving. He guides the elder Bloodwind to her corner as Nyssa forces the mewling Lockwood out of her cocoon and up to a bow-legged stance. The blonde learns Jules doesn’t have anything on her sibling when it comes to vicious chops, the Nubile One laying into a three-spot of heavy backhands that send Polly to the ropes.
The blonde pops forward from the connection of back to strands and into Nyssa’s scooping arms. The Native beauty lays the aching flag-waver over her right shoulder, but instead of following Juliet’s lead with a slam, Nyssa wraps both arms around her rival and genuflects, apparently trying to force Polly’s left shoulder out of its socket.
SHOULDERBREAKER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=CPT2hMX5WKM
The Star Spangled Bytch howls in pain, cradling her throbbing limb close, cursing not-so-sweet nothings over her breath. Bloodwind isn’t interested in the insults or allowing Lockwood any recovery time. She snatches the injured wing at the wrist and pulls the limb out from Polly’s taut torso. She yanks a yelping Polly to her knees and mounts the limb in a straddle. Leaping into the air with the arm still hers, Nyssa drives her backside down HARD into Polly’s left shoulder joint, determined to leave the Russian newcomer with a hobbled, one-armed partner.
Lockwood wails in agony. Her redheaded colluder from Russia’s north barely moving and barely moved.
“Fight,” Kira demands of Lockwood solemnly. “Show them you are eagle flying high over desert snakes.”
Pulling the leader of the Polly Patriots up to rubbery legs, Nyssa allows herself a moment to glance over her shoulder at the Russian redhead. “Only two snakes in this ring,” the younger Bloodwind observes, “and you’re one of ‘em.” Turning her attention back to her legal opponent, she adds, “Though this one’s looking more like a garden snake at the moment…”
Drawing back her choppin’ hand, the Nubile Navajo unloads with another blow to the chest that rocks Lockwood back on her heels. A second one follows, which actually knocks the diminutive blonde into a brief backpedal, but her retreat is halted when Nyssa snatches her foe’s wrist and whips her toward the far corner…
… at least, that was the plan. But Polly proves to have a little left in reserve, summoning a reversal and launching her nemesis in a race toward the buckles. However, the Star Spangled Bytch isn’t the only resourceful woman in the ring at the moment, and instead of either hurtling head on into the buckles or swiveling into a spine-jostling collision, Nyssa vaults to a perch on the middle buckle—one she maintains for only a brief moment before launching herself backward, twisting her body to catch her longtime rival with a rebound crossbody…
REBOUND FLYING CROSSBODY:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=-fVba8BTGqs
But no one knows you like a longtime rival, and when Nyssa goes high, Polly goes low, dropping to the canvas and leaving the Nubile Navajo’s crossbody to meet nothing but air. And then, of course, unforgiving canvas, Nyssa’s arms doing little to brace her impact. The TRUE American quickly rises to her knees and scampers into friendly territory, reaching through the ropes to land a swat to Koslova’s posterior—which counts as much as a tag as anything else.
For the tiniest fraction of a second, something akin to disgust at her partner’s seeming cowardice flickers across the Russian’s features. But that doesn’t stop Kira from slipping through the ropes, the cold-blooded Russian appearing almost disinterested as she returns to the ring. But that lack of concern dissipates the moment she spots the Nubile Navajo reaching her feet, Nyssa’s older sister stretching a hand over the top rope toward her in anticipation of a tag…
Her expression hardening into a focused snarl, Koslova EXPLODES out of her corner, racing toward Nyssa from behind, her right arm rising up to her side—and that arm SLAMS into the back of Bloodwind’s neck with a WICKED running clothesline that sends the smaller brunette crashing to the canvas face down for a second time, only in this instance, the combination of the surprise impact and the power with which the Russian Assassin strikes renders Nyssa’s arms even less capable of breaking her fall than before, and she is left twitching, face down on the mat.
Swinging a leg over the waist of the supine Navajo, Koslova steps into a standing straddle of the former Lightweight champion. Only instead of continuing to direct her attention toward the downed Bloodwind, the redhead instead locks eyes with the Native American beauty standing in the corner. And as Juliet’s arm begins to drop, Koslova’s rises, her hand waving to invite the Tempe Temptress to enter the ring, tag or no tag.
The elder Bloodwind cocks an eyebrow, and goes as far as to slip a leg through the ropes. But even before the referee takes a step toward her to head her off, Juliet pauses. “Careful what you ask for, Natasha,” the former Intercontinental champion cautions her. “Boris over there doesn’t scare me, and you don’t, either.”
“I don’t need your fear,” Kira answers, reaching down and gathering up Nyssa’s wrists. Pulling back on the younger Bloodwind’s arms while placing a boot between the brunette’s shoulderblades, the Russian beauty concludes, “And I will TAKE your respect.” Koslova eases the pressure from her boot, which had been the only thing preventing her grip on the Nubile Navajo’s wrists from hoisting the brunette’s upper body into the air.
And as she releases Nyssa’s wrists, Koslova STOMPS down, DRIVING the Native American’s face into the canvas with merciless force.
Though she continues to regard the FAWN newcomer with a withering glare, the Tempe Temptress reluctantly withdraws her gam from the ropes, while Kira grabs a handful of Nyssa’s raven locks and tugs the Nubile Navajo back to verticality. With the younger Bloodwind’s back to her own corner, Koslova guides Nyssa’s noggin under her left arm, before underhooking the Native American warrior’s wings. Then, with nary a grunt of effort, the Ruthless Russian pops her hips and launches Nyssa overhead, sending the smaller woman sailing toward Collusion’s corner, until she plummets to the mat, her back slamming into the canvas via a Butterfly Suplex.
BUTTERFLY SUPLEX:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=-Ajjp5D63YQ
The force of her landing propels the Nubile Navajo up to a seated position, eyes closed and spine arched as she reaches a hand to her throbbing lower back—all of which means that she feels to see infuriating smirk on the lips of the Star Spangled Bytch, Polly Lockwood calling for a tag. Kira proves to have no objections, scraping Nyssa off the deck before pressing the former two-time Lightweight champion back against the ropes. After reaching a hand to slap the American blonde’s, Koslova whips Bloodwind toward the far ropes. Keeping a firm grip on her tag rope, Juliet Bloodwind slides down the apron, as far out of her corner as she can while still maintaining possession of the cord with one hand, and reaches her other hand in an effort to slap her sister’s shoulder…
… but alas, her fingertips come up several inches short as the Nubile Navajo rebounds back toward enemy territory.
Once Kira had cleared the path for her, Polly takes possession of the middle rope with both hands, rocking backward on the apron as her nemesis charges toward her. And after waiting for JUST the right moment, Polly launches herself through the cables, her shoulder PLOWING into Nyssa’s midriff, the Lockwood Lunge striking with even greater force than usual thanks to the helping hand of her comrade. The Nubile Navajo lets out a loud cry as she hits the deck, one arm falling across her impaled abdomen as her knees draw up toward her chest. But Lockwood quickly peels the brunette out of her shell, forcing her shoulders flat against the mat before applying the lateral press…
LOCKWOOD LUNGE:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=UGxpozfZujs
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
A still gurgling Nyssa gets a shoulder up.
Sitting back on her haunches, Lockwood glares up at the official. “You were a ref during the Obama years, weren’t you?” she accuses. “Damn, biased Democrats…”
Instead of climbing to her feet, the Fox & Friendly blonde remains on her knees, grabbing a double fistful of hair and dragging Nyssa over to the ropes. Forcing the Nubile Navajo’s throat down across the bottom cable, Polly plants a knee between her hated rival’s shoulderblades, pulling up on the middle rope with all her might while driving her full body weight down against Nyssa’s back.
“KNOCK IT OFF, POLLY!” the official barks, but no one in the building—least of all the man himself—is surprised when the TRUE American ignores the order. And so, he launches a count, Lockwood taking it to the very edge of an indictment before easing off at “FOUR!” And while the pocket hardbody picks herself off the mat, turning toward the ref, a gagging, gasping Nyssa rolls over, the back of her neck resting against the rubber coated steel as she reaches a hand to massage her reddened windpipe…
… which proves a mistake.
While Polly and the ref continue to jaw at one another, Kira Koslova grabs the top rope with both hands and steps up—not onto the bottom cable, but onto the upturned mug of the Nubile Navajo! Nyssa’s hands fly up to push against the Russian’s shins, her shapely legs kicking helplessly…
ROPE ASSISTED DOUBLE FOOT PRESS:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=FRp3iGprLAA
… and absolutely NONE of this registers with the official, who continues to explain to Polly that he is a registered Independent.
Coming to the conclusion that it’s up to her, the Tempe Temptress shoots through the ropes, the FAWNatics roaring in approval as the elder Bloodwind races toward the opposite corner. Unfortunately, at the direction of the Star Spangled Bytch, the referee FINALLY notices something, and steps in to halt her approach. Juliet attempts to muscle by him, spurred on in part by a raised middle finger from Polly Lockwood, but he wrestled to keep control of the intruder, and to usher her back to the Bloodwind corner.
Raising her hands above her head, Lockwood brings her palms together in an echoing clap, which serves as Kira’s cue to dismount her prey and slip through the ropes. She grabs a handful of Nyssa’s locks and pulls the Native American warrior up to her knees, Polly slides out onto the apron. “You claim to be TRUE representative of this country?” the redhead mutters, the fingers of her right hand beginning to curl. “You are PATHETIC… which does make Polly and my jobs so important.”
With sudden fury, Koslova’s curled fingers PLUNGE into Nyssa’s skull, her knuckles quickly growing white as the Ruthless Russian Assassin slaps on an iron claw!
“Mark my words,” Kira hisses, her left hand coiling around her right wrist. “You will end this night face down in your own drool. More dignity than you deserve to be left with.”
Sinking backward, her glutes pressing heavier and heavier against her heels, Nyssa sends a couple of fists into Kira’s stomach. But those first two blows do little to lessen the force of her clawhold, and how many more shots did the Nubile Navajo have in her before that claw would start rendering her arms leaden?
The desperate Navajo warrior’s hands clench tight around the wrist of Koslova’s right hand. Over the increasingly glazed eyes of Bloodwind, Nyssa tries to pry the claw off her skull, but Kira’s fingers seem drilled into the bone and the younger sibling can’t budge them.
Bloodwind’s biceps start to shake then grow slack, falling to her sides. It’s more than a smoke signal and it can’t be ignored. Juliet slides through the cables and, despite Polly’s shrill warning to the ref, makes it to the ongoing annihilation of her sister. The Tempe Temptress BLASTS Kira in the temple with a raised boot to break up the looming knockout. The impact sends the Russian spinning into a heap, tangled with the folded and weakened Nyssa. Showing the first hint of vulnerability, Koslova tries to push to her feet but the concussive blow sends her dropping to her haunches where she shakes an attic full of cobwebs.
On the outside, Lockwood wails at the illegal intrusion, calling on the official to bundle the furious Jules back to her proper location.
“Do your job, sir,” the little blonde hardbody demands. “Or my Patriots and I will make sure Bethany hires someone who can clean up this swamp of cheats.”
Perhaps lighting a fire under the supposed man in charge, a contented Polly watches as the ref forces Juliet back and out.
With Kira on her feet and showing what seems her closest approximation to anger, the European colluder tugs a still dazed Nyssa up on her rubbery legs.
“Mine,” the Star Spangled Bytch informs Koslova. “That squaw has soiled the reputation of our great land for too long and only I can end it properly.”
Kira leans Nyssa’s head back and POUNDS a fist right between the dark eyes of the Navajo, knocking much of what sense remains from Bloodwind’s braincase. The redhead draws the barely ambulatory Arizonan to her corner, Nyssa guided zombie-like to the Collusion home where Kira deferentially slaps the outstretched hand of the TRUE American.
A grinning Lockwood slips between the cables, but demands Koslova not leave just yet. She directs her fellow colluder to wrap a bearhug around Nyssa’s waistline and lift Bloodwind high. The Russian does as she’s told, stepping several feet from the corner while doing so. Polly climbs to the middle ropes in her corner and leaps from her perch. The tawny blonde missile viciously clotheslines the Nubile One out of the redhead’s clutches, RIPPING her foe to the deck in a brutal backflip that sees the Navajo SLAM to the deck on her chest after the ¾ revolution.
Nimbly, the pernicious patriot lands on her knees and slides to a stop, not bothering to look back on the damage she’s wrought. She beams at Juliet, offering Bloodwind a wave before turning stern.
“Don’t even THINK of running in to save sis. My Russian friend wouldn’t think of it, but I’ll sue your ass for trespassing and malicious mischief.”
Sure that a looming lawsuit will keep the elder Bloodwind in her place, Polly asks a departing Kira to haul Nyssa’s mostly deadweight up before she departs, Lockwood assuring the dazzling Russian beauty she’s so much better at that type of thing. There’s a hint of a scowl, but Kira scoops up the flaccid Nyssa under her arms and leans her into the Collusion corner before taking her leave.
Polly doesn’t hesitate, racing to her target. She stops a couple feet out and swings her leg like a pendulum between the slightly parted stems of her tawny-skinned foe, punting pussy. Nyssa’s eyes roll white as the official scolds an anything but penitent Polly. Bloodwind starts to melt down the corner, but Lockwood, after removing her invading boot, swings an uppercut thrust of a viciously curled set of talons in the boot’s place.
The ruby-tipped stilettoes sink into the thin covering of the Nubile One’s crotch and squeeeeze the tender tissue beneath.
“Da…DA,” Kira nods adding to her verbal approval. “It is time to show dis girl how big your palm is and how powerful your Presidential Handshake.”
Polly’s perfect pearlies grit tight as she works Nyssa like a hand puppet, clenching her digits as she stuffs them further between the howling Nyssa’s thighs.
“ASK HER!” the True American demands.
“She’s in the ropes, Polly,” the man replies, a hint of a stutter in his voice. “You have to get her out.”
“Always the letter of the law and never the spirit with you bleeding hearts,” the Star Spangled Bytch growls.
Polly opens the curl in her fingers and presses a palm into Nyssa’s sweet spot. She shoves her left hand into the chest of the bent, gasping Bloodwind and flips her foe over her shoulders. It’s not a powerful landing, but it’s several feet from the ropes, shutting up the ref. Nyssa tries to get to all fours and crawl to her beseeching sibling, but the throbbing from Polly pressing the flesh in her manic manner sends Bloodwind tumbling into a fetal ball center stage.
Lockwood moves to her corner and snatches Old Glory. She waves it proudly and much of the crowd has the temerity to boo the Stars-n-Stripes. The bite-sized blonde furiously curses at the slight to her and her symbol of righteousness. Tossing her banner back to Kira, she spins back to the stubborn Nyssa, somehow the Indian brave having made it to one knee.
Polly sprints to her foe and, using the raised joint as a launching pad, CLUNKS a stiff kick to Nyssa’s temple, Lockwood’s Shining Wizard flattening the Nubile Navajo to the canvas in a starfish, at least supplying some anesthesia for the gobsmacked Bloodwind.
Showing pity toward the Arizona native, the True American passes on a pin and strides to her corner, tagging the hand of Koslova.
“My friend,” Polly says, “show these morons how a true friend of this country deals with its rabble.”
Lockwood motions to the splayed mess Nyssa’s been made and Kira doesn’t hesitate, splitting the ropes leg after leg and marching to the softly stirring Native American beauty.
The redhead hauls Nyssa to her feet and Bloodwind shows the fight that’s kept her a go-to member of the roster for show after show, sending an elbow into the breadbasket of her foe. The newcomer from St. Petersburg’s progress slowed, she’s seems stopped altogether when the Nubile Navajo drives another into Kira’s chest. But the momentary comeback is quelled with an elbow of Koslova’s own, this one raised high and brought down on the crown of Nyssa’s cranium.
Quickly wrapping her right arm around the back of Nyssa’s neck, the Russian athlete forges toward a neutral corner with Bloodwind in tow and DRIVES the forehead of the Native American into the middle buckle with a vicious Turnbuckle Bulldog.
TURNBUCKLE BULLDOG:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=RhIIQ65-QFU
Nyssa bounces away from the impact, ending in a wide spreadeagle, gazing blankly at the rafters above. Instantly, Kira leaps into the middle rope to her side and springboards through a u-turn to deliver a leg drop across the throat of Bloodwind. But Nyssa rolls clear and Koslova only SPIKES her tailbone into the unforgiving deck.
As a rare look of pain graces Kira’s features, the seated Russian massaging the base of her spine, the FAWNatics find a spark of hope and rhythmically clap as Nyssa pushes up to all fours and heads for the relief of her beckoning sibling.
The eager, elder Bloodwind stretches to the limit the tag rope will allow and is inches from entering when she drops like a stone. Pins pulled out from under her by the underhanded flag-waver, Jules’ chin BANGS off the apron, head snapping back from the collision.
Managing to remain upright if bowed, Juliet wobbles in front of a despondent Nyssa, the Navajo warrior watching Lockwood remain one step ahead of payback. Nyssa can only turn her head when an onrushing Polly demolishes her sister with a nearly decapitating Bytchkilla, the back of Juliet’s skull banging against the scarcely padded floor.
BYTCHKILLA @0:10:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wrn-k3TPel4
The Star Spangled Bytch slides to a stop and raises her arms high and wide in victory. In the corner nearest the devastation, Nyssa pulls to her feet, leaning into the ropes and looking down on the bite-sized blonde, threatening revenge.
“You have bigger things to worry about,” Lockwood replies.
From behind, Koslova sinks her nails into the ebony locks of the Navajo. She rips Nyssa to the middle of the ring then makes a right turn and heads for the ropes, dragging the beleaguered Bloodwind with her. The Russian pops to the middle cable and springboards out, dropping to her knees and PLANTING face to canvas, Nyssa demolished with a facebuster
SPRINGBOARD KNEELING FACEBUSTER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q9Fm2mN_Nzw
The younger Bloodwind flops to her back, ripe for the picking and the pinning, but Kira passes on a three-count to make a larger statement, as if Collusion had not already made it in dominating former tag tam champions.
Instead, the Russian waits as the stubborn Nyssa fights to her feet, Polly on the outside mockingly applauding the toughness of the Navajo. From behind the Russian strikes, capturing Bloodwind’s arms then trading control of each for a stronger grip on the left, folding the limb.
The redhead flips to the deck dragging the mostly flaccid Nyssa with her. Koslova snakes her limbs around the waylaid Navajo, imprisoning Nyssa in her Beartrap.
BEARTRAP:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=UHPuTcDwZfk
The cobra clutch triangle choke immediately saps what’s left of Bloodwind’s fight from her and it takes but a few moments for Nyssa to be rendered unconscious by the brutal finisher.
Under the watchful eye of the ref, Bloodwind is checked for any responsiveness. Failing a call from the official, the man lifts Nyssa’s right arm at the wrist and it drops leaden to the canvas.
He signals frantically for the bell and it tolls the end of the match. The announcer doesn’t hesitate, hoping his words will cause Koslova to release her death grip on her KO’ed foe.
“Your winners, by knockout, COLLUSION!”
There’s no such luck as a stone-faced Kira continues to apply the Beartrap, swinging the limp frame of Nyssa to and fro, playing with her defeated prey. Only when the ref threatens to overturn the decision does an entering Polly convince Kira to give up her grip.
The redhead unknots from her victim, Lockwood helping her new partner to her feet. The duo raises each other’s hand in victory under the rain of resounding jeers.
While some collusion could apparently be overlooked, all of FAWN surely realizes this version could not.